


"Where have you been?"

by veefromthesun



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: HannibaLibre, Hannibal is Hannibal, I never know what to write here because I don't want to spoil it?, Jealous Hannibal, Jealous Will, M/M, New original male character in chapter 2, Post S3, Will and Hannibal in Cuba, also Will and Hannibal are two idiots (in love) but we already know don't we, anyway there are no triggers no violence, kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veefromthesun/pseuds/veefromthesun
Summary: Maybe slaying a Dragon together is not enough to repair the fractures between Hannibal and Will.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope I'm not too late for #HannibaLibre. I started writing this, but I was picturing something completely different, then Bryan's tweet and this challenge happened and I was like... damn, it's perfect. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this mini fanfic, I'll post the second chapter soon. I apologize for any mistakes: English is not my first language, I did my best!

**"Where have you been?"**

 

_Chapter 1_

 

 

 

-Where have you been?-

Will Graham locked the front door. He took off his jacket and hung it.

-Out.-

He turned and faced the older man. Hannibal Lecter was sitting on their sofa. His expression would’ve passed as neutral to most people, but Will could tell he was enraged. Angry. Maybe hungry. And jealous.

-Out?- repeated Hannibal.

-I didn’t blow our cover, if that’s what you’re concerned about.-

Hannibal didn’t answer. Will knew he was sniffing around, trying to find out where the former FBI teacher had been. -I’m a bit tired, Hannibal. I’ll go to bed. Good night.-

He walked past the psychiatrist, but the man stood up and followed him.

-Not so fast, Will.-

Hannibal grabbed Will by his shoulders and forced him against a wall. He didn’t do it with violence, but he did it with urgency.

-Where have you been?- asked Hannibal once more.

Will hid a smile.

Jealousy was nothing new to Will. He knew Hannibal had slept with Alana, and Bedelia, while they were still exploring their dangerous relationship. Will had already worked on those poisonous feelings. He was almost at peace with them, _almost._ Hannibal surely wasn’t.

 

Hannibal had never had any reason to be jealous until that moment. He’d been a bit jealous of Alana, when Will told him he’d kissed her, but Hannibal had solved the problem in its early stages. Hannibal found out he could be even more jealous, when he discovered Will had married a woman. He was still mad about it. Molly successfully gave Will a family, and a son. She had succeeded where he’d failed. Anyway, the silhouette of Molly was something akin to a ghost in the psychiatrist’s mind: Hannibal had never met her. She had no body, no voice. Molly was simply a device Will had used to feel normal while Hannibal was in the BSHCI. He tried to have her killed, and he failed, but that wasn’t a problem: she wasn’t a threat anymore. Will had chosen Hannibal; except their relationship had remained the same since their jump in the Atlantic Ocean.

They were allies, friends. Hannibal felt like he was Will’s guide sometimes. He also felt like he was still Will’s psychiatrist, and nothing more than that. He accepted that and kept the distance Will probably wanted. Hannibal wasn’t so sure that Will wanted that distance, now that Will’s body was pressed against his, his pupils were dilated and his breath was short. Will smelled of rum, cigars and of a spicy perfume. Will didn’t smoke, and he’d stopped wearing his tremendous aftershave. Hannibal’s blood was boiling.

-I was… _out._ \- Will was whispering. -Does it bother you?-

-You were on a date.- Hannibal completely ignored Will’s question.

-Yes. I was on a date with a man. And I don’t see how that could bother you.-

The thought of Will being attracted to another person was suddenly a solid threat. Hannibal pictured a young man putting his dirty hands on Will’s body. He could’ve smelled where the boy had touched Will, but that would’ve made him even angrier.

-I didn’t pin you to a wall when I found out you were _fucking_ Alana. Or Bedelia- said Will.

-I’ve never _fucked_ Bedelia.-

Will’s face dropped for a second.

-You gave that some thought, Will. Anyway, that was incredibly rude of you, speaking about Bedelia and Alana, and me, like that.-

His voice had never been so low before. Will didn’t try to escape Hannibal; he kept staring at the older man.

-What’s to be done about that?- whispered Will.

 _He’s going to kiss me_ , Will thought, _or kill me._ Hannibal’s gaze was made of fire. He got even closer to Will, who desperately tried not to think about the other man’s body, pressed against his, and failed. Parted lips. Will was so close to losing control, then Hannibal let go of him, and took several steps back.

-That was smart, Will. You were trying to anger me, weren’t you? Are you afraid that I might snap and kill you, someday? Did you decide you wanted to find out if the threat was real, at any cost?-

Will didn’t have to fake shock. He leant on the wall, unable to speak.

Hannibal took his reaction the wrong way.

-It’s late, Will. Go to bed. Have a shower, first. You smell of cigars. You’ll find some clean towels in your bedroom. Good night.-

And so he headed to their kitchen, leaving Will alone.

He’d fucked up, again.

 

_One week ago_

 

It started when they hid in Cuba. Maybe it was the hot weather. None of them were used to that. Hannibal was always ready for change, that was true, but Will… that was an alien world. The language. The sun. The colors. The music. It was too much. Maybe it was simply Hannibal’s clothes being too revealing, all of a sudden, and his behaviour being as cold as Dante’s hell.

After Will’s confession, when the Dragon attacked them, they’d never found themselves in the right place, or mood, to talk about what was going on between them. There were more important things: getting better, taking their antibiotics, finding a new place to hide; directing their new boat at the right port, without getting noticed. Always on the edge of their seats.

Florida was too risky. It was Will’s idea.

-There is no extradition in Cuba.-

They could’ve gone anywhere else. Hannibal could’ve taken them anywhere. God knows how he could always manage that: he always had a solution, and he always had the right documents. Hannibal liked Cuba, so he accepted right away; after two months, Will had started hating that country.

There was nothing wrong with the people. They were welcoming, and polite – so polite Hannibal hadn’t gone hunting yet. The people were secretly happy to see wealthy European tourists spending their controversial money. Secretly, because one can never be too careful. Will understood that. They had to create new identities for themselves for the same reason. The Cubans he met always looked impressed by his fake British accent. Hannibal never reacted to that. He didn’t look impressed by Will’s fake accent; he probably thought it was simply a necessity.

 

The hot was unbearable. Their house was big, too big, but it had large, old walls that stayed cool during the day. Will’s bedroom was painted in a pastel green that was so similar to the color of the walls of his house in Wolf Trap. It had a nice bathroom, too, with a bathtub, but it was too silent. The walls blocked most of the sounds from the outside. The only thing he could actually hear were the birds that lived on the tree right outside his window. They woke him up every morning. Will missed the warm and loud wake-ups of his dogs. _They are with Molly. They’re fine._

Will found out he couldn’t fall asleep on his own, without Molly, even though at first he blamed the hot weather. Molly’s presence had been comforting, during the years they spent together. He suddenly felt vulnerable. There was too much space, and Will didn’t know what to do with it.

He knew he would've become bored soon, in that room. The ceiling would’ve revealed all its secrets, and Will would’ve had to start thinking again, as he waited to fall asleep. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t _think._ Thinking meant nightmares.

 

 _When did this start?_ Was it all Will’s fault? Hannibal had started acting weird. Well, actually, he acted like usual. When he was in prison, he talked about change. Will had given up his whole world, instead of just changing it a couple of details; Hannibal was the same person Will had meet years ago. Hannibal was a gentleman: professional, friendly but distant, cold and completely locked to Will. Only his clothes were different. Apart from that, he hadn’t changed.

 

One night, Will decided it was too much. He got up, picked some casual but elegant clothes from his drawer and prepared to get out. He tried to be as silent as he could, but Hannibal heard him anyway.

-Will? Is everything alright?-

Will stopped in the middle of the corridor. Hannibal was standing right outside his bedroom.

-Yes. I just… need some fresh air.-

Hannibal stared at him.

-You could open a window.-

-You know what I mean.-

-We have tequila. And rum. I believe we also have whiskey- said Hannibal. He seemed to know exactly where Will was headed.

-I’m… not exactly going out to get drunk.-

Will knew it sounded like a justification. Hannibal hid a smile.

-Don’t tell me you’re looking for company, Will.- Hannibal stopped for a couple of seconds, leaving Will to wonder about the implications that word offered. -I’d take that as an offense. Am I being a bad friend, Will? Do you feel alone, like I’m ignoring you?-

The answer to that was _yes_.

-No. I just need a distraction. I’m not tired enough to sleep.- It wasn’t even a lie.

-May I come with you?-

-What?-

Hannibal grabbed his jacket.

-I’d like to come with you and have a drink, if you don’t mind. It’s not safe for you to be out there alone.-

Will frowned and shook his head.

-I’m a grown man.-

-A white, rich European man, alone in a city you don’t know.-

-I’m not actually European. Or rich. And I slayed a dragon.-

Hannibal couldn’t hide his smile anymore.

- _We_ slayed a dragon, Will. Let’s go, shall we?-

 

Will couldn’t believe it was still hot. Or maybe it was the rum. He was used to whiskey, but cocktails like Cuba Libre were something he definitely didn’t order often. Hannibal had managed, somehow, to order a bottle of expensive wine. Will couldn’t even read the label.

-Oh my God, Hannibal. We drink wine everyday. Couldn’t you have ordered a less fancy drink, like everybody else?-

-Does it mean you won’t help me finish the bottle?-

-I’ve already drunk two glasses of wine. If I helped you finish that bottle, and drank some more wine after… three of these cocktails, you’d have to bring me home bridal style.-

-As if I’ve never done that before.-

-I was drugged. And it was your choice.-

-I know.-

Will didn’t answer. Hannibal stared at Will as if he’d never regretted the decision of saving him from Mason Verger and Cordell, not even for a second. The tension was unbearable. It was the first time in months that Hannibal’s face wasn’t buried under layers of practiced expressions.

Will wanted to say something. He knew Hannibal was waiting for him to say something – Hannibal would’ve never made the first step, no. Not after the miles he’d already walked just to get Will’s attention. Now, it was Will’s decision. He knew that. He just didn’t know _how_.

Hannibal poured some wine for Will and for himself.

-Okay. I’ll help you finish that bottle. But I don’t want to know where it’s from, or any other facts about it. Bottoms up.-

They drank at the same time.

-I’m gonna feel awful tomorrow.-

-I’ll make you coffee. Don’t worry.-

Will raised his gaze on Hannibal.

-You don’t even look or sound drunk. How can you have such a high tolerance?-

-I’m Russian- said Hannibal.

-No, you’re not. Wait. You are. Of course you are… Russian. And by Russian, I mean...-

Hannibal smiled at Will. It was so rare to see him smiling, that Will found himself staring at the older man.

-Someone’s drunk.-

Will could swear his voice had never sounded softer.

-I wish I could say something sarcastic, but at the moment my brain is unavailable.-

- _¿Quieres bailar, señor_ _es_ _?_ -

A girl had just approached Hannibal. She was young, younger than Will, probably in her 30s; black hair, and piercing, black eyes. She looked brave, or drunk. A friend of her was standing awkwardly behind her. She was brunette, and taller than her friend.

Hannibal looked at Will for a second, then he answered.

- _C_ _iertamente,_ _se_ _ñ_ _oritas._ -

 

Hannibal stood and followed the girl with black hair. Her friend smiled shyly at Will, waiting for him to stand up, too. Will swallowed and copied Hannibal.

He realized that dancing _salsa_ wasn’t so difficult, after drinking those cocktails. The girl who was dancing with him, Agathe, was really talented. She was leading, of course. Will found out that _salsa_ was fun, and that it required a lot of energy. He looked for Hannibal in the crowd, just to see if he was actually dancing.

And he was.

Hannibal looked like one of those professional dancers from Dancing with the Stars. Molly was so obsessed about them, so Will and Walter had to watch that show, too. Will had always thought those dancers looked too snob. Hannibal made him change his mind.

His posture was impeccable, and he moved with the grace of a feline. Hannibal and the girl were dancing _salsa_ , too, but it looked like something completely different from what Will and Agathe were dancing. Hannibal danced with a passion that made Will’s eyes burn. The way he was touching the girl, always precise, always caring, yet desperate. He decided what to do, it was clear, and his dancer was glad to follow, finally free to show how good she was, because she knew he wouldn’t let her fall. There was a crowd, now, watching the couple. The men stared at Hannibal. They looked envious of his partner, and his skills. Will was openly staring, too. Was he envious? It was painful to watch him dance. It made him feel weird.

For a brief moment Hannibal looked at Will. They stared at each other. Then, as the song finished, Hannibal got closer to his partner and kissed her on the mouth. The crowd cheered, and the girl looked really pleased, as she kissed him back. Suddenly it was too hot to breathe, and his heart was beating too fast. He said something to Agathe, but he realized he spoke English.

-Sorry, Agathe. I gotta go. _Lo siento._ Sorry. I really have to go. _Perdonami. Scusa.-_

He wasn’t even sure that was Spanish. Will grabbed his jacket and started walking. Walking was good. The air was cool, now. He felt sick to his stomach. The moment of panic had passed, and now he was left to deal with the aftermath. Why had he reacted that way?

-Will?-

He didn’t have to turn to know it was Hannibal. Will kept walking.

-Are you feeling sick, Will?-

Now he was worried. He _sounded_ convincingly worried.

-I’m tired.-

-Will…-

- _What?-_

Will stopped to face the older man. He was angry.

-You don’t have to babysit me. Go back to that lady and screw her. I don’t give a fuck. Blow our cover. I’m sick of this place, anyway.-

Hannibal looked shocked, for a second, as he heard Will swear, then his face was as still as marble.

-You want to leave Cuba?-

He asked that as if he’d just said “do you think it will rain?”

-We can leave right now, Will. Just ask.-

-What’s _wrong_ with you?- shouted Will. -Why are you always so… You always act as if everything was fine. You show off in a bar and it’s fine. You get drunk and kiss a stranger in public and it’s fine. I tell you I’m sick of this place and it’s fine. _Yeah. Let’s just leave. Who cares._ -

They’d just reached their house. Will looked at Hannibal, then he shook his head and walked to the entrance.

-What do you want from me, Will?- asked Hannibal, once he’d locked their main door. Will turned on the lights.

-A reaction. I want a reaction- said Will, after a moment. He took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair near the table. He knew Hannibal hated it, but he was too tired and angry to care about that.

It wasn’t like Hannibal not to answer to such a provocation. Will raised his gaze to meet Hannibal’s, and there it was, that tension. Will gripped to the table, as Hannibal came forward, slowly, and placed his hands on Will’s waist.

-What kind of reaction?-

It was impossible to look at Hannibal in the eyes, and it was impossible to look away. Will realized he just wanted to lean over and kiss Hannibal. He _needed_ that. And Hannibal looked willing to accept.

Will kissed Hannibal, feeling euphoric and in pain at the same time. He wondered how could that be possible, as Hannibal’s hands traveled along his back, lifting up his shirt and reveling a glimpse Will’s tan skin. Will felt like he was on fire. Hannibal was kissing him with passion, Will was kissing Hannibal with hunger. And yet, Will felt like he just wanted to burst out in tears. Hannibal’s lips couldn’t erase Will’s mind. He kept thinking of the girl with black hair. And then Bedelia. And then Alana.

_They came first, because you were too worried about non-existent problems. As always._

Hannibal’s hand reached Will’s pants, and Will found out he couldn’t breathe. It should’ve been what Will wanted, but it was happening for the wrong reasons. It felt like Hannibal just wanted fix Will, instead of wanting to be with him. Will couldn’t bear that thought.

-Stop- whispered Will. Hannibal removed his hand immediately and looked at Will.

-Sex isn’t going to fix this- he explained. He sounded harsher than he’d expected. He was angrier than he’d expected. -Good night, Hannibal.-

Will moved away from Hannibal and went to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for coming back ❤ I'm sorry for being late. I'm such a slow writer in my native language, and I'm even slower in English.  
> I updated tags and rating, I completely forgot a few things when I posted chapter one. 
> 
> Thank you for being here. Feel free to leave kudos and comments, if you want to ❤
> 
> Song of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDoTQrQ2Fhs

Will spent the following days leaving early in the morning and coming back when he was sure that Hannibal was sound asleep. He didn’t want to see the older man. He  _knew_ if he talked to Hannibal, he would’ve made him change his mind. Will was mad. He was mad because of the way he’d been treated for months: Hannibal had been ice-cold for so long, and all of a sudden he had decided to play with him, showing off in a bar full of people they didn’t even know, making him jealous and anxious at the same time. What if somebody had recognized him? They had silently agreed to keep a low profile for all those months, and out of nowhere Hannibal acted like he’d lost his mind, just because he wanted to show Will something. And what did he want to show Will? That if he wanted, he could’ve found a new companion in five minutes? Is that what he’d wanted to demonstrate? That he didn’t need Will’s company or appreciation, because it was so easy for him to find both?

Well, the message had been crystal clear. Hannibal wanted to play, but Will didn’t. After a lifetime spent on their own, they had become a zero sum game; now it was Hannibal’s turn to find out if solitaire was still inviting.

Four days after his exploit, as he was getting ready to leave in the morning, Will found Hannibal in the kitchen. 

-Would you like some coffee, before you leave?- asked the psychiatrist.

The first words after days of deafening silence. Will looked at the other man, quickly. Hannibal had chosen casual clothes, that day. He was wearing a burgundy t-shirt, and what looked like black sweatpants. His hair was wet and pushed back. Will knew what he was doing: Hannibal wanted to look less threatening.

_Psychology 101. Seriously, Doctor?_

-Why not?- answered Will. 

Hannibal poured coffee for both, as Will sit in front of him.

-I bought our plane tickets. We leave tomorrow. I was thinking about Switzerland, but we can always choose a different place, once we’re in Europe.-

Ah. There it was. Ice-cold Hannibal. Planning their lives like it was no big deal.

-No- said Will.

Hannibal put down his mug and looked at Will.

-You said you wanted to leave.-

He always sounded perfectly rational.  _Will says he is sick of this place, then we leave this place. Simple._

-That’s not what I meant.-

-Will, you’re not happy here.-

He stood up.

-Oh, really? Did you notice I’m not happy? Of course I’m not happy. We barely speak. You talk to me only when you want to ask me what I’d like for dinner. You’re always here or in your room. You never look at me. You haven’t touched me since the wounds on my cheek and on my chest were still open. And when you touch me, it’s because you drank a whole bottle of French wine.- 

Will stopped to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Hannibal wasn’t looking at him. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Then he spoke, after a few seconds.

-I was worried you’d get tired of this situation, if I obligated you with my presence. I tried to give you some space.-

Will shook his head.

-I can’t believe it. Your goal was to deprive me of anything that wasn’t  _you_ , and now you want to give me space. Hannibal,- called Will, and he made a pause, because he wanted the psychiatrist to look at him in the eyes. -I have nothing. I don’t have… my three children. Because of you. I don’t have my wife. I don’t have my job. I don’t have my dogs. I don’t have my country. Or my name. But I have you. You, and no one else. Because that’s what you wanted.- 

His words had an impact. He could swear he saw a tear in Hannibal’s eye, but maybe he was wrong. He put on his jacket and his hat.

-Take your responsibilities. I took mine- said Will, then he left the kitchen.

 

 

 

Will actively avoided Hannibal for the following days.

He started wandering. The town Hannibal had chosen was nice. There was a beach, nice restaurants, a cinema, a library, many little shops and a lot of bars. There were some hotels, but not too many: the people there preferred to rent or sell houses. There were a lot of tourists, in that period, and the streets were chaotic. He found himself in the middle of the  _mercado,_ because he was lost in his thoughts. Will tried to keep calm and decided it was too much, and too hot. He needed a quiet place, possibly with air conditioning, or fans. The library had fans, so he went there.

 

The library was an oasis. Will walked among the shelves, even if he didn’t know what he was looking for. All the books were in Spanish, anyway. He could always try reading a children’s book, or looking at the pictures. Maybe he’d make some progress with the language.

- _Señor_ , excuse me?-

Will turned around. A man was looking at him. He smiled shyly.

-The shelf of… international books? English? Understand? It’s there.- 

The man pointed, showing Will where the shelf was. He studied the man for a second.

-Thank you,  _señor._ -

-I’m Rafael. Sorry. I saw you in the bar, with your friend, the dancer? I thought you’d feel lost here. We don’t have many books in English. Sorry.-

Rafael was slowly getting more fluent, as he got more comfortable. He had a thick accent, but he understood the language. It was surely better than what Will could do in Spanish. 

-Yes. I feel a little lost, actually- he admitted. -I’m Philip, by the way- he lied.

Rafael smiled. -Nice to meet you, Philip. Can I show how you some books?-

Will shrugged. -Do you work here?-

-Yes, I work here. I’m lucky. This place is old, and the heat stays outside. And I have all these books around me- explained Rafael, as he showed Will the way.

An alarm was ringing in Will’s head from the very moment the man had mentioned the bar. Was Rafael following him? Had he recognized them? He tried to calm down. Rafael didn’t look threatening. Will knew that it was true, because he couldn’t stabilize  _that_ kind of connection with him. It was like talking to Alana, or Molly. His empathy was asleep: there was nothing to play with. 

-What kind of books do you like?- asked Rafael.

_What kind of books does Philip like?_ He tried to imagine a whole different person. Philip was English, rich. He liked poker, rum and polo, and he secretly disliked Wagner. 

-I don’t know. Surprise me.-

That voice belonged to someone else. It wasn’t Will’s. It was Philip’s. And Philip liked playing. 

Rafael looked like he’d just blushed. He reached for a book on top of the bookcase.

- _Memoirs of Hadrian_ \- announced Rafael. -It’s an historical novel. Critically acclaimed. It’s one of my favorites, actually.- He hesitated. -I don’t want to spoil it, but he is really in love with Antinuos. It’s heartbreaking.-

There was a sparkle in his eyes. Will, no,  _Philip_ , gently took the book from his hands; his fingers brushed against the other man’s ones.

-It sounds interesting. I’ll read it- said he. He examined the book.

Rafael’s face lit. -We could… meet, when you’ve finished reading it. We could talk about it, if you want.-

Will rose his gaze on him.  _Is he asking me on a date?_ He imagined Hannibal’s expression. He would’ve been furious, if he had found out. 

_Hannibal and I are not married. I’m free to do whatever I want,_ he reminded himself. 

-Why not tonight? So you can tell me all I have to know about the book.-

The other man smiled openly. Rafael was attractive, Will couldn’t deny it. He looked just a bit younger than Will; he was black, and he had short hair, and beautiful eyes. He was way taller than Will. The older man almost felt guilty, but he hadn’t promised his eternal love, and he needed to spend a few hours without thinking about the situation with Hannibal. He needed someone  _normal_ . He needed some peace. Rafael was cheerful, kind, and there was something in the way he smiled, as if he was somehow ashamed… no, not really, he was not used to smiling. That reminded him of someone. Will tried not to dwell on that thought.

-Tonight is perfect. Meet me outside the library. There is a restaurant you should try.-

Will really tried not to think about Hannibal.

-Awesome. See you later, then.-

_What the fuck am I doing?_ He kept repeating the same question in his mind, until he arrived home; then he remembered what had brought him to such desperation. 

Hannibal was on the couch. He was reading. When he saw Will, his expression didn’t change.

-Hello, Will- said Hannibal. He was always so polite. So fucking cold. Will wondered where the Hannibal that kissed him against the table went. Or the Hannibal that looked at him as if he meant the world, when they’d destroyed the Dragon. _They probably drowned, both of them: one, in the Atlantic Ocean; the other, in that bottle of French wine._

-Hello, Hannibal.- 

Will didn’t realize he was holding back tears. He hoped Hannibal couldn’t tell. Before the psychiatrist could notice, Will went to his room.

 

 

 

Will didn’t actually expect it to work. Rafael was a pleasant company. He made Will feel comfortable:  it was almost as if he knew Will wasn’t used to dating, and realized he had to take it slowly. Damn it, Will’s last real date with a man had happened… ten years ago? He had never been luckier with women, too, apart from Molly. Dates really weren’t Will’s thing. Rafael knew that, somehow, and he tried to make Will feel at ease.

-I’ve been married- confessed Will, at one point. He really had to stop drinking rum. -It didn’t work out.-

Rafael lit a cigar, then looked at him for a few seconds. He wasn’t judging him: he simply wanted to understand.

-Did something bad happen? I hope you don’t mind if I ask, but you look... sorry. You look like you can’t forgive yourself. You should try, Philip. I don’t know what happened, but... forgive yourself. You’re a good man.-

Will should’ve thought of Molly; instead, he thought of Hannibal. He shook his head. 

-Enough about me. Tell me about yourself. You studied literature in Spain, right? How was it?-

A few hours later, Will was in Rafael’s apartment. And Rafael was kissing him. There was nothing wrong with Rafael. He was charming, kind. His body smelled of soap, cigars, and of a spicy cologne. Will’s heart and mind were somewhere else, though. He kept seeing Hannibal’s face. He kept thinking of Hannibal’s lips; he could feel Hannibal’s hands on his back.  _Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal_ . He couldn’t play anymore.

-I’m sorry, Rafael. I can’t do this.-

The man stepped back. 

-Is it about your ex wife?- 

_No._ Will nodded, anyway. He couldn’t tell the truth, but it didn’t feel as if he’d just lied. He apologized again and left. He was good at leaving.

Now, after the date, after the fight with Hannibal, as Will laid in his bathtub, it all seemed out of focus, as if those scenes were from some kind of dream sequence in which nothing made sense. The only, vivid thing, were Hannibal’s eyes, lit of anger and jealousy. He could still feel the impression of Hannibal’s hands on his arms. They were both cowards. Hannibal couldn’t be decoded, and Will was just desperate. None of them wanted to give in. 

Maybe they were still a zero sum game.

There had to be something Will could grasp. Something he could hold on to, something Hannibal could see outside his mind palace. Something real. He thought about apologizing… but for what? Rafael deserved his apologies. Will realized he’d just played with him; he was trying to find a source of stability, and he’d acted as an asshole. There was no excuse. 

Hannibal didn’t need his apologies. Maybe he needed an explanation. Will needed one for sure.

 

Will stood up. Once he was dressed, he headed to Hannibal’s room. He stood outside the door. Then he knocked.

No one answered. Will knew Hannibal wasn’t asleep. He simply knew.

He opened the door, and looked inside. The lamp on his night table was on. Hannibal was lying on his side, facing the window. From that position, he couldn’t see the younger man. Will entered the room and closed the door behind himself. He didn’t know what to do, so he just sat on the opposite side of the bed. 

-I didn’t mean to… test you. To see if you’d snap and kill me, as you said. I already knew you wouldn’t.-

And that was true. Will knew Hannibal had changed, for him. Not for the rest of the world, but just for him; just a bit. Will wondered if Hannibal had suddenly become so cold because maybe he was worried about Will’s influence in his life. He made a mental note to ask him, later, if he could.

-I didn’t have a plan. I was just… lost. I needed stability. I have only you, but suddenly it felt like I was on my own. I had  hoped our relationship could evolve, to be honest \- continued Will. He was going off topic, now. He hadn’t prepared a speech. He should have, maybe. He swallowed.

-I mean it. I have no one else. But is it your fault? No. It’s my fault, too. I accepted this. And I don’t regret my decision.- 

He felt the bed move, just slightly.

-I told you and Jack, remember? You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. So, whatever you’re doing, stop. You had the reaction you wanted from me, I guess. Maybe you were hoping for something better. I don’t know. I had a reaction from you, anyway. I don’t know what I was expecting- he told himself. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the past few days, or the past few minutes. 

-I wasn’t playing with you, Will.-

Will turned and looked at him. Hannibal was sitting on the bed. He was staring at his hands; he looked so tired, all of a sudden.

-I didn’t know what to do. I’m a psychiatrist and I didn’t know what to do.-

His voice was low. He sounded in pain, and sincere. Will swallowed again.

-About what?- he asked.

Hannibal bit his lip. -I was afraid you’d reject me, at first.-

-Nonsense- answered Will. He didn’t even realize he’d just said  _that,_ but it was all so obvious, anyway. Why hiding? It had no point. -I gave everything for you.-

-Then I was afraid I’d brainwashed you.-

_Oh._

-That’s why you were avoiding me?-

-I was looking for the symptoms of Stockholm syndrome. I tried to let you go, slowly. I knew solitude is your weakness. I worked on that to make you angry. I hoped you’d just leave me. It would’ve been better to know that this bond between us had been real, even for a moment, rather than living in a castle of lies for the rest of my life. A castle I have built myself.-

Will didn’t miss that detail. That was something he could hold on to.

-Hoped?-

Hannibal’s gaze wandered around the room.

-When I heard you leaving, in the middle of the night, I… I realized...-

The psychiatrist didn’t finish the sentence. Will slowly got closer to Hannibal. He sat next to him, and he crossed his legs on the bed.

-Did I render you speechless, Doctor?-

-You do, sometimes.- 

-This is not Stockholm syndrome.-

-You wouldn’t know.-

-Was it Stockholm syndrome, when we sat in front of the Primavera?-

Hannibal didn’t answer. Will’s throat was dry. There was one last thing to ask.

-Why did you drink with me, then, if you wanted me to leave? Why did you kiss me?-

-Do you really want to know?-

-Yes. I want to know if that was real, or if it was one of your tests.-

-It was real- answered Hannibal. -Truth is that I missed you. I missed talking to you. I longed for your touch. And I realized how hard it would’ve been if you actually left. We’ve been there already, I know, but this time… it would’ve been different.- Hannibal stopped for a second. His voice was softer, when he spoke again. -You should’ve looked at yourself the other night, Will. You were even more beautiful than usual. Those girls had spent the whole night watching you, but you didn’t even realize, because you were looking at me. And even if I wanted it so desperately… even if I wanted you, I realized too late that I wasn’t doing your good. If you hadn’t stopped me, later, I would have stopped anyway, once I came to my senses. You make me irrational, Will. You make me impulsive. You really don’t see the impact you have on me, do you?-

Hannibal finally raised his gaze on Will, and the younger man felt pain in his chest. They were finally honest with each other. Hannibal’s expression was open. Will drowned in his eyes. He wondered what the older man could see. Hannibal smiled, but he managed to look sad anyway. He was lost in thoughts. He looked at Will’s hand, as he took it in his hands.

-How did the date go?- Hannibal asked. He had changed the subject.

-Don’t. Don’t do this.-

-You said you were unhappy, Will. I want you to be happy. Even if that doesn’t involve me. So, tell me. Was that man nice to you?-

-Look at me. Please.-

Will felt like he was about to burst into tears.

Hannibal looked at him, and Will couldn’t just bear it any longer.

Will put his free hand on Hannibal’s cheek and he kissed him. Hannibal kissed him back. That was all Will needed. All he wanted. Hannibal’s hands were already in his hair, and Will realized they were still wet from the bath. Hannibal didn’t seem to be bothered by that. He pulled Will closer, as he kissed him. Will let Hannibal part his lips with his tongue. Hannibal tasted of mint, and smelled like home. It was a feeling, more than a smell, and Will couldn’t describe it. He didn’t notice, last time: he was too drunk, and overwhelmed by the sensations. This time, it was different. He could tell when Hannibal’s kisses were light, almost chaste on his cheeks, on his neck, or when they were desperate on his lips. It was a dance that made Will feel dizzy, even if he was surrounded by Hannibal’s arms. There was something the psychiatrist needed to know, before Will completely lost control. He broke the kiss and pushed Hannibal gently, so that he could look at the other man in his eyes.

-So, you love me so much that you wanted to let me go... for my own good?- It was meant to be a sentence, but it sounded like a question. It was still such an incredible concept. 

-Yes. That is correct- said Hannibal, as he left a kiss on Will’s lips.

-Then I want you to know that I choose this. I choose you. I chose you so many years ago, and I choose you now. I need you, and I want you. Even if I could live my life without you, I don’t want to. I love you, Hannibal.-

It was nice to be able to say it. 

-And I love you, Will.-

It was nice to hear it. Finally. Hannibal kept repeating that sentence between a kiss and another, and Will kept telling him that he was choosing him, and he’d always choose him, as he was taking off his clothes. Hannibal lied on the bed and pulled Will with him, so that he would lie on top of him. Will put his legs around Hannibal and kissed his neck.

-But I mean it, Will. How did the date go?- 

Hannibal wanted to play.  Maybe he just wanted to offer some emotional relief. Will was thankful for that. He was tired of being mad at him. He needed something else; something new, between them. So he left a new kiss on his neck;  he noticed the psychiatrist had closed his eyes. He couldn’t resist him, with that expression, and his mouth open. Will kissed him again.

-He brought me to a traditional restaurant.-

-Did he choose the wine?-

-He did.-

-And was it good?-

-You knew I was going on a date and you spent the whole night thinking about it. Didn’t you?-

Hannibal smiled on Will’s lips. His hands were on his back, and they were playing with the elastic of Will’s underwear.

-So?- asked the psychiatrist.

-You choose the wine better.-

Hannibal kissed Will on his lips, then he inverted their position. Now he was on top of Will. His hands were on Will’s wrists.

-Did you sleep with him?-

Will took a moment to register Hannibal’s expression. He was ravenous. The younger man moved his wrists above his head, slowly, and Hannibal followed the movement.

-No. I kept thinking about you.-

Hannibal got closer to Will, as if he was going to kiss him, but stopped a few centimeters away, just to mess with him.

-You knew already- said Will.

-I just wanted to hear it from you. Are you mine, Will Graham?-

Will couldn’t resist any longer. He kissed Hannibal, and trapped his waist with his legs. 

-Yes- he said, breaking the kiss for a moment.

-Then I am yours. If you want me.-

-I want you, Hannibal. I want you.-

Hannibal’s lips traveled down Will’s body. The psychiatrist’s hands let go of Will’s wrists, and went to his waist. His fingers found the elastic, again. Will held his breath, and suddenly he was naked in front of Hannibal. He closed his eyes when the heat of his mouth surrounded him, and couldn’t keep himself from moaning; and just like that, it was gone. 

-Did he kiss you, Will?-

-What?-

He didn’t even know what he was talking about. He opened his eyes. Hannibal was a few centimeters away from his face.

-Just answer- said Hannibal. His hand was on Will’s waist.

-Yes.-

-Where?-

- _Hannibal_.-

-Please, Will.-

Hannibal moved his hand from his waist, to his pelvis, and touched him. He repeated those words in his ears, whispering, as his fingers were exploring him. Will was so close to screaming.

-He just kissed me.-

Hannibal’s other hand went to Will’s chin; he kissed him on the lips. Will had never been kissed so slowly. He’d never been  _touched_ so slowly. It was almost painful. 

-What are you doing?- Will managed to ask. He couldn’t breathe, because he wanted Hannibal so much, and Hannibal knew that, but he would’ve made him wait. 

-I want to replace a memory. I want you to remember _this_ , instead of your date.-

Will tried to find a sarcastic answer to that, but Hannibal’s hands were too distracting.

-Where else did he kiss you?-  asked Hannibal.

-You’re just jealous.- Finally his brain was working. -You’re too possessive. We’ll have to work on that. I just…- 

He couldn’t finish the sentence, because Hannibal’s fingers were between his cheeks.

-Neck- answered Will. -That’s it. Then I left.-

-Good boy.- 

A finger pressed at his entrance.

Will _shivered_. Hannibal couldn’t just play with him like that. Not when he was still wearing his slips, and looked so in control. Hannibal bent and started kissing his neck. He kissed, he licked, he bit Will’s skin. He kissed a spot right behind his ear that made Will feel dizzy, then he bit and pulled his earlobe gently. Will spread his legs without even thinking about it. He couldn’t believe it was happening. He couldn’t believe Hannibal was touching him; Hannibal was _making love_ to him.

The psychiatrist was definitely leaving a mark on Will’s skin, sucking and biting, and then kissing the spot. He was making love to Will, yes, but he was also drawing all the pleasure he could get, as he inflicted that sweet torture. He was playing, teasing. Stalling. He was savoring him. And he was determinate to make it last as long as he could. 

Hannibal grabbed his thigh, as he lowered himself on Will, letting their bodies touch. Will moaned, but then he realized he was simply touching the fabric of his slips. He couldn’t accept that.

He pulled Hannibal down and inverted their position, once again. 

-What if I lied, before- he whispered. -And told you that I’d fucked him?-

Hannibal’s eyes widened for a moment. 

-Did you think about that possibility, Hannibal?- He stressed that “H”. -Would you have let me replace that memory?-

Will had rendered Hannibal speechless. The psychiatrist was just looking at him, in awe. He was waiting for his next move, anticipating. Will swallowed, and he noticed that Hannibal’s eyes had followed the movement of his Adam’s apple. He was so beautiful. His cheekbones, his jaw, his _eyes_ , and his lips. He’d dreamed of those lips for a long time, even if he hadn’t been able to admit it for a long time. Will took off his slips, then got closer to him and kissed him on the lips, as he made their bodies touch. Hannibal moaned into the kiss.

-You wouldn’t have to lie- said Hannibal. -You have me. You always have. Just take me.-

And so he did. Will explored, and touched, and loved Hannibal’s body. He counted his scars and kissed them. He ran his fingers along his legs, sank them into his flesh as if they were a Bernini sculpture, and he got lost in the smell of his golden skin. His body was so toned, so masculine, he didn’t know if he should’ve been more envious or attracted; he still couldn’t believe it was happening. Hannibal was surrounding him. It felt right. It felt like that was the only place where he really belonged: with Hannibal. Will just wanted to love him forever, and Hannibal, given the fact that now he was basically babbling and speaking a foreign language, probably would’ve agreed.  _Will_ was the reason why Hannibal was a mess. The younger man looked at his face; it was distorted by pleasure. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open, and his head was thrown back. His hair had never been messier. Will knew he was a mess as well. They were both covered in sweat, panting; shivering. Hannibal opened his eyes and looked at Will. His hands found Will’s hair, again. He pulled them gently.

- _Will…_ \- he moaned. -I’m…-

Will ate the rest of his sentence with a kiss.

They reached the climax together. Will collapsed into his lover’s arms; Hannibal held him tight.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing.  Will laid his head on Hannibal’s chest. He’d done the same thing before throwing both of them off the cliff. Hannibal ran his fingers in Will’s hair. 

- _Aš tave myliu_ \- whispered the psychiatrist, then. -It means _I love you_ , in my native language.-

Will tried to repeat it, but failed miserably. They both laughed.

-Say it again- asked Will.

- _Aš tave myliu._ \- Hannibal spoke slowly this time.

-Ash… no.  _Aš tave..._ me…  _Aš tave myliu._ Is that correct?-

Hannibal didn’t answer. He kissed Will. And then he kissed him again. 

-You know what I’m thinking, Hannibal?-

-What?-

-Let’s have a bath. And then we should eat something.-

-I made _tiramisù_ with _dulce de leche_. A bit unorthodox, I know, but I was inspired.-

-That sounds perfect. You’ll need those calories.-

Hannibal laughed, and Will tried to make a serious face.

-What? You owe me a dance, Hannibal.-

- _Oh._ I see. You’ll have your dance.-

-Hannibal?-

-Yes?-

Will kissed him, slowly, lazily. Hannibal kissed him back. There was something decadent about that moment.

-Will? What about that bath?-

-In a minute.-

They kissed again. Eventually, Will let Hannibal get up, but only after he made the psychiatrist promise they wouldn’t leave Cuba, at least, not in the immediate future. Hannibal was glad to make that promise.


End file.
